Force Majeure
by ivydevoss
Summary: AU: Sabriel with a side of Destiel. Force majeure ("Greater force"): "The force majeure clause in a contract excuses a party from not performing its contractual obligations due to unforeseen events beyond its control." [Psychological inspiration and chapter titles come from the Chris Smither song "Help Me Now" – worth a listen!]
1. A Fool of Singular Cool

_To everyone who's waiting for the S&S&LS/DKITYTI sequel: don't worry! It's in the works. :) But in the meantime, you can't fight inspiration, and I have decided it's time for my first ever Sabriel AU (plus of course there's Destiel too, because my OTP sneaks in everywhere). Unusually for me, I'm starting posting this before it's finished, so there might be longish delays between chapters. But I've gotten really into taking inspiration and suggestions from my reviewers lately, so I couldn't resist posting the first chapters now. Okay, enough blabbing, time for the story!_

_Chapter titles and general psychological inspiration come from the brilliant Chris Smither song "Help Me Now" (youtube: watch?v=ex2MCrIMRCY)._

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**CHAPTER ONE: A Fool of Singular Cool**

"So, what exactly are you celebrating tonight?" the girl with the dimples asked, her almond eyes sparkling knowingly above her drink.

Gabriel spun on his bar stool to face her and spread his fingers dramatically, pausing for a beat before answering. "Liberation. I'm a free man."

She laughed, playing along, but the bartender just cocked an eyebrow and said drily "Break-up or lay-off?"

Gabriel tried to look offended. But it had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet. "The latter," he finally admitted, and turned back to the girl whose name he hadn't caught. "And for the stupidest reason, too. It was my boss's––my ex-boss's––own fault if he was holding that damn bottle too close to himself when he opened it."

She couldn't hide her intrigue. "What, did you shake his soda or something?"

"Pssh." Gabriel scoffed. "No way, I'm no amateur. Here, I'll show you the trick. Bar man, bring me a bottle of water and a thumbtack."

"That'll be two-fifty," was the grudging reply as the requested objects were placed on the bar.

Ignoring him, Gabriel told his attentive one-person audience "Now, watch and learn from the master." With no hesitation, he grabbed the tack and jabbed it into the bottom of the bottle. When he withdrew it, not a drop of water came out of the tiny hole.

"Wait, that's crazy, how does..." Her voice trailed off.

"Physics, my dear," Gabriel replied blithely, continuing to poke holes all around the base of the bottle. When he'd made about ten of them, he glanced around for the perfect victim. And _voilà:_ a jock-type guy was strutting over from the pool table, pocketing a wad of cash with a cocky grin on his face that Gabriel couldn't wait to wipe off. He slipped the bottle to the girl. "Flirt with him. Give him this." She raised an eyebrow, but Mr. Green-Eyed Pool Hustler wasn't bad-looking, so she willingly joined the game, leaning over and sending the newcomer a charming smile.

Seeing her, the guy adjusted his course and swung himself onto the stool next to her. "Hey." A practiced grin slid across his face as he looked her up and down, none too subtly either. _What a sleazeball,_ Gabriel thought, perking up a bit. His day had been lousy, but it was about to get a lot better.

She started in, pluckily. "I was watching you over there. Pretty impressive." Another big smile, accompanied by a fluttering of eyelashes. Almost too over-the-top, but the guy was eating it up.

"Yeah?" He smirked at her.

"Yeah. You're really good. You've been at the pool table all evening, you must be thirsty. I ordered an extra water by accident, do you want it?"

It was awkwardly played, but she was cute enough that the dude didn't even notice. Grin still in place, he took the proffered bottle and began unscrewing the lid. "Thanks, babe. I'm Dean. And you are...?"

But Gabriel still didn't get to find out her name, because as she was about to answer, the guy jumped to his feet, swearing loudly as many tiny spurts of water gushed out all over his shirt. Some of it got on the girl herself, but she was giggling like mad and clearly didn't care. Gabriel couldn't hold back his radiant pride as she shot him a glance of conspiratorial glee. "And that," he told her, like a professor continuing a lecture, while Dean pitched the bottle across the room and stared down at his soaked shirt in dismay, "Is physics at work. When the bottle cap is removed, the tension is broken and all the water comes shooting out of the prepared holes."

"You did this?" Dean growled across at him, noticing Gabriel for the first time. "Where the hell do you think you are, buddy? In third grade?"

"No, I'm in a bar. So are you." Gabriel was willing to make conversation, but apparently this guy was rapidly descending into an animalistic fury as he noticed that almost everyone in the room was looking their way and even the bartender was chuckling to himself.

"You pint-size prick...!" With no further words, Dean lunged for him, and Gabriel decided it was time to leave. Blowing his erstwhile physics student a kiss, he dashed for the door.

Unfortunately, he ran right into a wall. A wall that hadn't been there a moment ago. A warm, well-muscled wall, with arms that caught hold of him and a voice that said "Whoa, slow down, buddy." Then the arms pushed him to one side and the voice continued: "Dean, chill! What's going on here?"

Head spinning, Gabriel craned his neck and saw that the wall was actually an extraordinarily tall man wearing a plaid shirt and a bemused expression. More importantly, he had one arm in front of Gabriel and the other one holding off the rageful Dean, who was still glaring at the prankster. "Let me at him, Sam. Bastard thinks he's so funny. I'll show him what's funny."

The tall man raised an eyebrow in his direction, and Gabriel shrugged in as innocent a manner as he could muster up. "I was just giving the young lady a physics lesson, and we needed a guinea pig."

"A physics lesson." Tall dude didn't sound impressed, but he was still the only thing holding off his would-be attacker, so Gabriel hurried to explain.

"You punch holes in the bottom of a water bottle. As long as the lid's on tight, none comes out. Soon as you unscrew it, though..." Gabriel shook his head sadly. "Can't fight the laws of nature."

Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously, but to Gabriel's relief, the giant named Sam cracked a wry smile. "Laws of nature, huh?" He shook his head, and Gabriel noticed how absurdly long his hair was. "Dean, give it a rest, let's just go."

And before Gabriel knew it, he was watching the two scary big guys leave the bar and counting his lucky stars.


	2. A Solo Played on a Single String

**CHAPTER TWO: Every Day Is a Solo Played on a Single String**

"Castiel, my favorite brother!" Gabriel exclaimed into his cell phone. His voice was suave and confident as ever, but his fingers were tapping out a hyperactive rhythm on the steering wheel. "Guess where I am right now."

A long pause, and then an unintelligible grumble came down the line.

"Parked right in front of your building!" Gabriel could never wait for people to play his guessing games. He was too impatient. "I found a spot literally in front of your door. Weird, I guess not too many folks are battling for parking spots in the city at, uh..." He checked the car clock. "Three-fourteen in the morning."

This time he got an audible groan, but still no words.

"Anyway," Gabriel forged on, "I am probably literally no more than eighty feet away from you right now, as the crow flies. Or, y'know, as the monkey climbs, the waterfall falls, whatever. Right down here at the curb. So it'll be totally easy for you to just hop out of bed and buzz me in. I'll be up in two shakes. You've still got that old sleeping bag, right?"

"Gabriel." Castiel's voice was gruff with sleep and tinged with the long-suffering patience that only a younger brother of Gabriel Novak could know. "What have you––no, we can discuss this when you get inside. Or, even better, tomorrow."

When Gabriel finally got up to the fifth floor––the elevator was apparently broken again––the door to Castiel's apartment was already standing open, and Cas himself was waiting in the doorway with a storm brewing in his eyes. "I have work in the morning, you know," he hissed as soon as Gabriel was close enough to hear him.

"It's so nice to see you too, bro," Gabriel shot back, to conceal a small pang of guilt. "What, it's been like, six, seven months now? You're not very good at keeping in touch," he scolded playfully as his brother let him in and closed the door behind them.

"Neither are you," Cas growled back, his voice still gravelly with sleep. "You only ever call me when you need something. Last time it was bail money. Now what is it? Were you kicked out of your apartment? What happened?"

Gabriel sighed. "Long story. Tell you tomorrow, okay?"

Castiel had to already know that this was serious, more than just missing a rent payment. Gabriel's housing was provided by his workplace, which was the only reason he'd been able to spend the past three years in such a snazzy penthouse apartment downtown. An apartment which, of course, he didn't have anymore, not since his boss had majorly overreacted to a little bit of unexpected water shooting out the bottom of his water bottle in the middle of a meeting today. Okay, maybe it had been a particularly important meeting with the client from Tokyo who was their new potential majority stockholder, but how was a guy supposed to know that? All he knew was that his boss needed to lighten up, and after inventing the bottle trick quite by accident yesterday, Gabriel had been aching to try it out on somebody.

Unfortunately, this had been the straw that broke the camel's back, and in one fell swoop Gabriel had gone from the successful broker who worked just enough to pay the bills, spending the rest of his time crashing classy parties and bringing the world some much-needed laughter, to a jobless and homeless loser. Tonight, after even his attempts to pick up a one-night stand and thereby secure himself a temporary bed had backfired (who would have thought the housing officials would have actually demanded he turn in his keys that very day?), he'd been left with no choice but to ring up the only member of his family who hadn't disowned him years ago.

Gabriel Novak, sparkling star of the top-tier party circuit, now having to make do with his little brother's apartment floor and a sleeping bag. It would have been hilarious, if it weren't so damn pathetic. And on top of everything, he thought, as he tried and failed to fluff the flattened pillow Castiel had provided before stumbling back into his own bed, the night had ended with him almost being attacked by some thuggish jerk in a bar, when all he'd wanted to do was make a cute girl laugh. _Where did I go wrong?_ Gabriel asked himself plaintively. The only aspect of his day that hadn't been a total failure was his lifesaving encounter with The Human Wall. With this thought––which really shouldn't be that comforting, but somehow was––he drifted off to sleep.


	3. What Do I Do When the Tune Is Through?

**CHAPTER THREE: What Do I Do When the Tune Is Through?**

Gabriel was awoken by a toe nudging his ribs. It wasn't the best way to wake up. But then, to be fair, he'd known worse ways too. He wasn't about to let his brother know that, though. "Let me die. Just let me die."

"Stop being such a drama queen," Castiel grumbled. "You're on my floor, in my way. And I need to give you the third degree, and breakfast, before I leave for work."

Gabriel cracked open a bleary eye. "Aw, Cassie, y'don' need to cook breakfas'."

"I'm not cooking. I'm putting the last of the cornflakes in a bowl and pouring milk on them, and if you're not in there to eat them before they get soggy, you'll be going without breakfast, because there's nothing else in the house."

Gabriel groaned expressively, but managed to untangle himself from the seductive warmth of the sleeping bag and get himself into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as his little brother prepared the cereal exactly as promised. "Cold breakfast?" Gabriel whined. "Haven't you even got bread for toast?"

"Yes. But nothing to spread on it."

Gabriel made a face. "I'm going shopping today."

Castiel sighed. "Gabriel. I'm out the door in five minutes, and before then I need you to tell me exactly what's going on. And how long you'll be staying. Because I have a couple of friends coming over tonight, and I'd prefer you were gone by then."

"Friends?" Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows. "Friends of the boy persuasion?"

Castiel looked mortified. "I do not have more than one boyfriend. In fact, I do not currently have any boyfriend." He pressed his lips together briefly and then added "Eat your cornflakes."

Gabriel shoveled a spoonful obediently, if not enthusiastically, into his mouth, and talked through it. "You should try it. Nothing like a nice threesome in the morning to get your engines running."

Castiel's eyes got huge. Gabriel had forgotten how much fun it was to mess with his innocent little brother's head. All the more fun considering that Castiel, despite having known from a very young age that he preferred boys to girls, was also unbearably picky, to the extent where Gabriel wouldn't be surprised if he was still carrying his V-card.

"So," Gabriel asked around another mouthful of cereal, "If these 'friends' of yours aren't coming over for some hot man-on-man-on-man action, why are you so anxious to get me gone by then?"

This time Castiel's eyes reacted the opposite way, by narrowing to tiny annoyed slits, and his hands gripped the back of the kitchen chair tightly. "You––you––I have to go to work. I expect to see a decided lack of you when I return tonight."

"Naturally, oh brother mine," Gabriel sang, flicking milk at Castiel with his spoon. The other man dodged it reflexively, heading for the door while mumbling darkly to himself, and soon Gabriel was left alone in the apartment, having successfully distracted his little bro from demanding an explanation of the current situation. Now he was facing the dire prospect of a long empty day with nothing to do. And, more importantly, nothing to eat. Castiel had to be kidding himself if he honestly thought Gabriel was going to get by on a bowl of cornflakes until lunch time. Speaking of which, what was there for lunch? A whirlwind rummage through the cupboards revealed the answer: nothing. Cas hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said there was nothing else in the house. "Shopping trip!" Gabriel announced to the empty kitchen. Here's hoping his company credit card hadn't been cut off yet.

Joy of joys: it hadn't. Two hours later he was back with four bulging shopping bags full of every kind of goody you could imagine. (Lacking a key, he'd propped Castiel's apartment door fractionally open––something his brother would kill him for if he ever found out, which he wouldn't––and gotten back into the building by employing the girl-scout trick of ringing all the bells at once and waiting for some lazy fool to buzz him in without asking questions. Gabriel's life philosophy was that if other people couldn't manage to be sharp and savvy, he couldn't be blamed for taking advantage of their idiocy.)

As one of his bags tipped over from the sheer weight of deliciousness inside it, spilling Hostess cupcakes and miniature pre-baked blueberry pies like a cornucopia of yummy goodness across the kitchen table, Gabriel remembered with delight that his little brother had quite a collection of sci-fi films. Today would be a good day.

And so it was. At five-forty-five that evening, the key turned in the lock and Castiel let himself in, his ears immediately assaulted by the sound of music turned up way too loud. Gabriel popped up in the door to the bedroom. "Seriously, Cas? You listen to Destiny's Child? I'm sorry, we're going to have to revoke your man-license."

"Gabriel. You're still here." Castiel looked ominous, but not exactly surprised. He slipped past his older brother into the bedroom, turned off the music, and returned to the kitchen to stare at the food packaging all over the place. "I see you made good on your threat to go shopping."

"Yup." Gabriel popped the 'p' with self-satisfaction. "This sullen sad-sack of a bachelor pad was given the rare opportunity today to see itself remade as a magnificent man-cave of glory. Scrumptious food, hilarious B movies, shitty pop music. This is the life, boyo." He clapped Castiel on the back. "How was work?"

"No. It's my turn to ask the questions. How long are you staying? And what happened, anyway? Why are you here?" Castiel's tone brooked no argument as he ducked out from under his brother's hand and pinned him with his intense blue eyes. With a sigh, Gabriel realized he couldn't have delayed this moment forever anyway. As unpleasant as it was, he'd have to admit the truth.

"Got fired." He shrugged lightly. "I guess the laugh-per-minute ratio finally got a little too high. But hey, what can I say, I live to play!"

Castiel's eyebrows drew together and he gave his brother a sad look.

Gabriel couldn't stand sad looks. "Cut it out, bro. I'm better off without those cruel warlords. They were considering sending me into battle! Traveling purchases, yucky." He shuddered at the thought, and at the pitying gaze being directed his way.

Castiel's eyebrows unknotted themselves, a sure sign that he was about to say something, but at that moment the doorbell rang. "Oh. My guests." His hesitant expression quickly turned into a glare directed at Gabriel. "Since you're still here, I will just say that I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. No... stupid pranks, got it?"

"Pinky swear." Gabriel held up his pinky, but Castiel had already gone to buzz in the visitors. Gabriel amused himself by puffing up his cheeks and blowing the empty cupcake wrappers across the table until they fell to the floor. Like ships sailing off the edge of the world, he thought. "Oh, Columbus!" he crowed at the fallen piece of plastic. "You were wrong after all!"

"...Columbus? You name your trash?" asked a horrifyingly familiar voice behind him. Gabriel would deny to the end of time that he actually jumped, but the fact remains that he somehow turned around very rapidly and found himself face to face with one of the few faces he'd hoped he'd never be facing again. It was time to face the music. And this song was called 'Dean'.

***


	4. What Would You Say If I Turned Your Way

_Here we go again! To make up for how short they are, I've decided to mostly update this story two chapters at a time. And while we're on the theme of "two", here are two notes to my two lovely reviewers, whom I was unable to answer directly since you both reviewed as guests._

_To Evelina: As you see, your wish is my command! Here's another chapter for you the same evening. Fair warning, though: this story is going to be a bit less action-packed and a bit more psychological. Because I can't help finding Gabriel's mind fascinating. :)_

_To cherishiskisa: I'm just as thrilled to "see" you again, my dear! *hearts* As always, your review put a huge smile on my face._

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**CHAPTER FOUR: What Would You Say If I Turned Your Way**

While Gabriel and Dean stared disbelievingly at each other, another figure ducked through the door. A very tall figure. _Sam,_Gabriel's brain reminded him. But he refused to acknowledge aloud that he remembered either man's name. "Well well well, if it isn't the brothers Biggs and Meany. What a pleasant surprise."

Castiel appeared from behind Sam and began making introductions. "This is my brother Gabriel. He's staying with me temporarily. Gabe, these are my friends Dean and Sam Winchester."

Dean only broke off glaring at Gabriel to turn a subtly softer, but still annoyed, gaze on Castiel. "Yeah, we've met."

"Oh...?" Castiel was at a loss. "Well, that's, um... what a coincidence. In that case, Gabriel, perhaps you'd like to join us for pizza and movies?"

Gabriel was about to concoct some fantastical excuse as to why he couldn't accept the invitation (he always believed that if you were going to lie your way out of something, you might as well do it with flair), but Dean answered first. "Or perhaps he wouldn't."

Gabriel's eyes flashed. "Or perhaps I would. Thanks, Cassie. You guys can pick the movies, I'll order the pizza. Any requests?"

"Caprese," suggested Castiel.

"Hawaiian," Sam added.

"Meat Lover's Special." And that was Dean, after a grumpy pause. Figures.

"Got it. Y'all go make yourselves comfortable now."

Gabriel dialed the number of the local pizza place and ordered three pizzas, one empty pizza box, one large Coke, and one empty styrofoam French-fry box. Needless to say, the guy taking the order was rather confused, but he noted everything down and said it was on its way.

When the pizzas arrived, Gabriel quickly set to work tearing off the top of the French-fry box, all the while keeping one eye on the bedroom door to make sure nobody came out and caught him red-handed. Luckily, it sounded like the three others were deeply engaged in an argument about which Star Wars was best, each of the Winchesters trying to convince Castiel, who had never seen the films, to side with them.

Having set the actual Meat Lover's pizza aside, Gabriel poured the entire soda into the bottom half of the flat styrofoam box, and carefully placed the liquid-filled container inside the empty pizza box. Then he rummaged around in his brother's kitchen drawers till he found a piece of thread, and rigged it up through a hole he poked in the styrofoam, so that the action of opening the pizza box would lift the back of the styrofoam box, tossing the liquid forward. His work complete, Gabriel delicately stacked all three boxes and carried them into the bedroom, where the others were already lined up on the couch in front of the television.

"Here we go!" Gabriel announced. "As requested: one Caprese––" he deposited it on Castiel's lap–– "One Hawaiian––" for Sam–– "And one Meat Lover's Special." As usual, he was planning to just steal slices of everybody else's pizza, rather than settle for a single kind (bo-ring!) for himself. He placed the trick box in Dean's hands, and quickly retreated to the bed to make sure he was out of the line of fire. As he'd predicted, Dean didn't wait, but opened the box immediately, with a grin of anticipation that was instantly wiped off his face as an explosion of Coke drenched his face and chest (and a good part of Castiel's couch and Sam's arm as well, but hey, every war has casualties).

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Dean sputtered, his voice about an octave higher than usual.

Gabriel collapsed in conniptions of laughter. "Oh my god, that was priceless! Your face!"

Ignoring the fact that he was still soaked with soda, Dean clenched his jaw and dove on top of Gabriel. "No! My sheets!" Castiel shrieked, but his cries went unheard in the ruckus of Dean's growls and Sam's guffaws.

When their respective little brothers finally managed to separate them, Gabriel was gasping for breath (Dean had tried to strangle him) and Castiel's bed was covered with soda stains. Sam was trying and failing to hide a wide grin. Cas had a look of doom on his face as he dragged Gabriel into the bathroom and slammed the door behind them. "You got soda all over my bedroom," he hissed. "What did I say about playing pranks on my guests?!"

Still gleeful at the memory of Dean's rage––and Sam's smile––Gabriel was happy to remind Castiel of his exact words. "You said 'no stupid pranks'. But that one wasn't stupid! I think it was one of my best, actually. I've been dying to try it out on somebody."

Castiel sighed deeply and stared at his incorrigible older brother. "You're extraordinarily lucky to have me, you know. If I hadn't taken you in, where would you be sleeping tonight?"

"At the Ritz," Gabriel fabricated. "I know a guy, see..." But his voice trailed off as Castiel set to work, wetting a cloth and dabbing at the soda stains on Gabriel's shirt. "Cas, kid, I appreciate it, really, but I'm not that much of a mess. Better give your sofa cover a wash, though. I don't think Dean's aim is too good."

For some reason, Castiel blinked rapidly at this and lowered his gaze, swallowing audibly. "Yes, I... I suppose you're right. I'll go tend to hi––it."

Gabriel slowly raised an eyebrow and followed his brother out of the bathroom. Riiight. That had just been sooo subtle.

Entering the bedroom, Gabriel bumped hard into Castiel, who had apparently taken one step into the room and frozen in his tracks. Peeking around his brother's shoulder, Gabriel understood why. Dean's shirt was half-off, up over his head, and when he tugged it off completely his hair was all scruffed up. He rubbed a hand angrily across his bare chest. "Great, I'm all sticky now. What an asshole."

"You––" Castiel started, before his voice seemed to get stuck in his throat. Dean glanced up darkly. As much as he relished seeing his little brother in a tizzy, Gabriel took pity on him and jumped in.

"Cas is trying to say, would you like to borrow a shirt? And if you'll kindly hand yours over, he'll go chuck it in the washing machine."

Dean did so, passing his wet shirt to a blushing Castiel who quickly vanished back into the bathroom, and then Dean focused his menacing gaze upon Gabriel. "Listen, you little weirdo. What is wrong with you? Why do you do this shit? What'd I ever do to you?"

It was actually a good question. Gabriel had picked Dean completely at random as his victim for the bottle trick last night, expecting never to see him again, and now upon discovering that the universe saw fit for him to encounter the Winchester brothers twice in two days, it just seemed like poetic justice to prank Dean again, in a new and creative fashion. But that wasn't the only reason. A quick sideways glance revealed that Sam was still smirking to himself, hair falling over his eyes in a way that would make anyone's fingers itch to brush it away.

Gabriel had his answer. "Because your gigantic brother saved me from you last night, so I thought it only fair to return the favor by giving him a good laugh."

Dean shot a glance over at Sam, who was unfortunately unable to hide his amusement in time. "Sam, come on! That was NOT funny. You're supposed to be on my side here!"

Sam's eyebrows did an awkward don't-blame-me dance, and he was opening his mouth to defend himself when Castiel returned, seemingly having gotten a hold of himself. "Well, now, if we're all quite done being idiots––" his eyes met Gabriel's–– "Maybe we can finally get down to watching some movies. Did you even order Dean's pizza, Gabriel?"

"Of course I did! It's in the kitchen."

With a growl, Dean stalked towards the kitchen, and Castiel grabbed a clean shirt from the dresser and hurried after him. Gabriel sat cross-legged on the bed, now stripped of its damp sheets, and sighed with satisfaction as he imagined exactly how warily Dean would open all pizza boxes from now on. Sam took a breath and paused for a moment before saying in a low tone "All right, I guess that was pretty funny. But dude, seriously. You'd better lay off of Dean. He's not someone you want as an enemy."

"Oh, I'm not scared of him," Gabriel replied breezily. "Not as long as King Kong's puppy-eyed alter ego is around to protect me." And he tipped a blatant wink in Sam's direction, rewarded by a single choked-off snort of laughter before the other two re-entered the room with drinks and the last pizza.


	5. Lonesome Is As Lonesome Does and I Do It

_Chapter Six is coming too, as soon as I manage to finish Chapter Eight!_

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**CHAPTER FIVE: Lonesome Is As Lonesome Does, and I Do It**

To Gabriel's surprise, the night ended up being quite fun, even if Castiel gave him the evil eye when he got anywhere near Dean. His little brother's huge crush was too hilarious, especially because it was on a dude who was clearly as straight as the day was long. Not that Dean seemed to mind the attention. At one point the two of them were sitting on opposite ends of the couch staring into each other's eyes when Sam returned from the bathroom and plopped down between them, breaking the intense gaze, and Gabriel took advantage of the moment to make a crack about Pyramus and Thisbe. Castiel knitted his brows and tipped his head slightly––his go-to reaction when not understanding something––and Dean didn't appear to get the reference either. But Sam's eyes slowly slid left and then right, and his lips twitched ever so slightly. The paused movie had barely been restarted when he made some excuse about his back hurting, and left the two of them alone on the couch, instead flopping down on his front next to Gabriel on the bed.

Gabriel, his elbows propped on Castiel's fluffiest pillow, steadied the plate of pizza next to him as the bed subsided under Sam's weight. "Careful now. I don't think Cas will appreciate us getting any more edibles on his beddables tonight."

"Beddables?" Sam snorted with laughter, and both occupants of the couch shushed them. Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically and peeked sideways to catch Sam biting back another chuckle in the flashing light of the TV screen.

As the movie continued, Castiel somehow migrated closer to the center of the couch, and when Gabriel noticed this, he elbowed Sam in the ribs and subtly pointed it out. Sam's eyebrows slid up his forehead, and the two of them exchanged a glance. Gabriel had always thought it was adorable how obvious his little brother was when infatuated, but he'd never guessed that it would double the fun to have a partner in crime, someone who could join him in silent amusement at the would-be love story unfolding in front of their eyes.

Eventually, someone noticed that midnight was drawing near, and the Winchesters started getting ready to leave. "Well Cas, it was fun, as always," Dean said, conspicuously ignoring Gabriel.

Sam made up for it by smiling at both of them. "Thanks for the pizza, Cas. It was nice to meet you, Gabriel."

"Yeah, you too, Sasquatch," Gabriel replied, and felt a rush of victory when he saw Dean attempting to squash a snort of surprised amusement at the impromptu nickname. "Catch ya on the flip side," Gabriel added, and winked at Sam before making his exit back into the bedroom, leaving Castiel to see his guests out.

Gabriel collected the empty pizza boxes and brought them into the kitchen (seeing as Cas was apparently letting him stay, he thought he should probably do some useful stuff from time to time) and immediately got fixed with his brother's pensive sky-blue gaze. Castiel's head was tipped slightly to one side, and his eyes were distant. "What?" Gabriel asked in annoyance. "Have I got a piece of pepperoni stuck to my forehead or something?"

"I'm just wondering about your answer to the question I asked you earlier. Or rather, your non-answer. I think I'll ask it again. If it weren't for me, where would you be staying right now?"

"Anywhere. With friends." Gabriel tossed the boxes in the trash and tried to sound carefree. "The world is my oyster."

Castiel, unfortunately, was not easily distracted. "Do you actually have friends?"

"Of course." Gabriel scoffed. "Everybody loves me."

"Gabriel."

There was an excruciating pause, and Gabriel shrugged brusquely. Why was it always so damn hard to lie to his little brother?

Castiel finally spoke again, in a tone of slow wonder. "You don't have any friends."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the trash can. If a glare could have inflammatory properties, that thing would have been ash by now. "Who needs 'em?" he barked. "I'm too busy being social to have friends. I go to parties, I eat food, I get drunk, I get laid, and up until yesterday I got to spend most of my days cheating idiots out of their money over the phone! I have a great life. Friends are for wimps."

Castiel stood still for a moment, then he thoughtfully picked up the empty soda cup and dropped it into the trash too. "Do you ever miss our family?"

The change of topic caught Gabriel off-guard, and before he knew it he was speaking the unvarnished truth. "Nope. If we'd had anything like a normal family, I might miss it, but honestly there wasn't that much to miss."

"I suppose that's true," Castiel agreed. "But sometimes I do miss the... I'm not sure how to put it. That lifeline. Yes, maybe it was mostly fighting all the time, but you always knew there was someone paying attention to you, someone you were accountable to... someone who cared what you did with your life, whether they'd admit it or not."

"Oh sure," Gabriel snapped. "They cared plenty about what I did with my life. Because everything I did was WRONG!"

Castiel leveled an accusing gaze at him. "And you're implying that my 'lifestyle' was warmly accepted by them?"

Gabriel sighed, immediately wishing he could take back his outburst. "Sorry, bro. I know you had it bad, too. Maybe even worse than me," he reluctantly admitted. "But, I don't know, it never seemed to bother you that much. Maybe I'm just over-sensitive, whatever. It's like––" the words hung on the tip of his tongue and then fell out before he could stop them–– "It always felt like every single thing I did, I did it in front of a silent jury. And, hell, that feeling gets old, you know what I mean? Leaving was the best choice I ever made. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He lifted his chin defiantly, eyes glittering a challenge at his brother. "Wouldn't you?"

Castiel stared at him, struck silent by his older brother's unexpected honesty. After a minute, though, he pressed his lips together and then nodded hesitantly. "Yes. I wouldn't go back. But that doesn't mean I don't miss them, sometimes."

There was another long pause, but this one was less painful than the last. Finally Castiel let out a heavy sigh. "Well. You're welcome to stay as long as you need to, of course. I'd never turn you away. But I hope you have some sort of plan for the future. What are you going to do next?"

Gabriel restricted the urge to roll his eyes. He'd forgotten how obsessed Cas was with plans and scheduling and sorting everything out in advance. What a control freak. He bit back the snarky comment waiting to pop out, though, because he really was grateful for his little brother's hospitality. It was true: there really wasn't anyone else Gabriel knew or liked well enough to crash with for a while. And, when he faced it head on, this thought suddenly seemed rather horrifying. Ignoring it, he said vaguely "I'm going to scope out the scene in the next few days. No worries, I'll be out of your hair soon enough. And I bet you'll even miss me. Don't deny it!"

Castiel harrumphed, but couldn't hide the trace of a smile, and Gabriel felt a sudden rush of affection for him. Thank God for little brothers with soft hearts.


	6. Friends You Don't Make Always Let You Be

**CHAPTER SIX: Friends You Don't Make Always Let You Be**

Still feeling a tad guilty for impinging on his brother's life, Gabriel made sure to be up early enough the next morning to keep Castiel company over breakfast. Unfortunately, Cas took this as a golden opportunity to do some more of his annoying psychoanalysis stuff. "So, Gabriel," he said in between blowing on his mug of tea to cool it down. "If you haven't really made any friends here in the past few years, I'll assume you haven't had any romantic relationships worth the name, either."

Gabriel groaned. "Oh, come on. It's too early in the morning to defend my glamorous playboy lifestyle. Trust me, I wasn't hurtin' for it, if you know what I mean."

"I'm not talking about sex," Castiel said firmly. "If you don't remove your tea bag immediately, your tea will be oversteeped. I'm talking about an emotional connection to an individual who is of central importance in your life."

"I didn't even ask for tea," Gabriel grumbled, lifting the tea bag out with his spoon and dropping it on the table. "And I know the definition of a relationship, silly."

Castiel glared at the tea bag. Gabriel suddenly remembered his guest status, picked up the tea bag and dropped it in the trash. Castiel handed him a paper towel to wipe the tea off the table.

Finally the silence became too much, and Gabriel started speaking again, almost defensively. "You know me, Cassie. I don't need anybody. Doing the whole couple thing is for sheeple. I'm my own man!" Wrapping his hands around the hot mug to warm his fingers, he leaned forward and added confidentially, "You know what? My philosophy is, only losers need an S.O."

"S.O.?" Castiel frowned and tipped his head slightly.

"Significant Other, obvs. Sheesh, how out of touch are you? Don't answer that. It's called a rhetorical question."

Castiel's frown deepened and he opened his mouth, probably to inform Gabriel that he knew what a rhetorical question was, but his older brother saw the warning signs and surged onward. "You always hear people talking about how they need to feel loved, need somebody to complete them. What a load of bull! If you can't love yourself and complete yourself, you're sure as hell not going to find anyone else to do it for you." Satisfied, if feeling a bit revealed, by his explanation, Gabriel sat back and took a sip of tea before pulling a face. There was no sugar in it.

"I... do not disagree with any of that," Castiel replied slowly, a thoughtful frown still on his face. "But you don't have to need someone. You can just want them."

Gabriel couldn't hold back a smirk. "Uh-huh. Like you want Dean?" Seeing his brother's immediate blush, he chortled aloud. "Don't bother denying it, kid. It is painfully obvious. Believe me, the only person who's not in on the joke is Dean himself. Which, by the way, seriously? Why him, of all people? He's a total caveman!"

Castiel took a deep breath and seemed to overcome his embarrassment. "He... he has a lot of love to give." Gabriel scoffed, but Castiel doggedly continued, eyes fixed on the tabletop. "His dedication and loyalty to his brother is tremendous. It's a beautiful thing to see. But... he's never had anyone who could show him what it feels like to––to be on the receiving end of that."

"The receiving end?" Gabriel repeated with a shudder. "More than I needed to know, little bro! Jeez, have mercy on a guy! Where do you keep the brain bleach around here?"

Castiel's blush intensified but his glare still managed to be intimidating. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Gabriel acknowledged this with a grin, and dumped about half of the sugar bowl's contents into his tea. "Well, you know what comes next, then. The official Big Brother Inquisition. How did you guys meet? What does he do? Any past relationship drama we need to know about? What's his family like? Come on, cough up, there's still twenty minutes before you have to leave."

Castiel meekly took the rain of questions as his due, although he did move the sugar bowl out of his brother's reach. "We met through his brother, actually. Sam's a lawyer. He came here to start a private practice––family law, I believe. They moved into this block about three months ago, and I bumped into Sam a couple of times at the local health-food store. Before too long, we realized we were peripherally involved in the same case, and we started hanging out more after that." Castiel was a translation consultant for a legal-translation firm, so Gabriel supposed it made sense that he'd crossed paths with Sam sooner or later.

Mulling over Castiel's words, Gabriel suddenly narrowed his eyes. "Wait, so, Dean followed his brother here?" he interrupted. "That's a little weird. Doesn't he have his own job?"

"Yes, he's a mechanic," Castiel said, with the same tone as if he were saying 'He's a Nobel Prize winner' or 'He's the next President of the United States'. "He specializes in renovating classic cars. He's very talented." Gabriel raised an eyebrow, refusing to be impressed, and Castiel continued. "He had been becoming... displeased with the lack of work opportunities in the suburbs where they used to live. Once Sam had his degree in hand and could expect to be bringing in a regular paycheck, that gave Dean the safety net he needed to quit the garage he'd been working at and finally take the initiative to open his own auto service in the city. Both of them are already enjoying not inconsiderable success in their respective careers here," Castiel finished proudly.

"Hmph. Well." Gabriel stirred the sugar sludge in the bottom of his mug in as sinister a manner as he could. "That leaves past relationships and family. What's the story?"

"Past relationships...?" Castiel's eyebrows drew together. "I don't know. He never talks about them. I don't think he's had many... successful ones. He doesn't mention his family much either, but I learned most of the salient facts from Sam. Both of their parents are gone––they died about fifteen years ago. Dean was responsible for a good part of Sam's upbringing. Helped him through college too, since he was already working at the garage by then and Sam didn't have anything besides his scholarship money."

Okay, maybe now Gabriel was impressed. A little. But he didn't let on. After gulping down the drink that could barely still be called tea, he finally made a noise of reluctant consent. "All right, then. Don't think I give you my blessing, but I'll lay off on the pranks for now. Unless a really super fantabulous idea strikes me, in which case all bets are off and I cannot legally be held responsible for my actions."

Castiel quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, I think we might get Sam to handle that. In a professional manner, I mean." His threatening tone was ruined, however, by the barely-restrained smile on his lips.

"Ha! I'm not scared of the big bad lawyer," Gabriel declared. "He likes me, anyway. We're practically besties now."

"Really?" Castiel stood up and began clearing away the breakfast dishes. "That was fast."

"What can I say? I'm a charming devil," Gabriel said with a shrug. "Plus, I made his big bro look stupid in front of him. Twice. You know he's gotta love that, even if he won't admit it."

Castiel's back was to him as he rinsed the dishes before sticking them into the dishwasher, but Gabriel didn't need to see his brother's face to know he was holding back laughter. That was one of the perks of knowing somebody for years and years, he supposed. A tiny pang of some unidentifiable feeling went through him when he realized Castiel was probably––no, definitely––the only person he knew that well.

Castiel's voice broke into his thoughts, sounding like he was thinking out loud. "You know, it's a good idea for you to befriend Sam. He doesn't seem to know a lot of people around here yet. He works too hard. Dean has developed something of a social circle, but it appears to be somewhat difficult for Sam." Turning away from the sink, Castiel gave his brother a contemplative look, drying his hands on a dish towel. "You might be just what he needs."

***


	7. A One-Man Band to the Bone

_I'm back, everybody! Sorry for the long break. Haven't finished this story yet, but I've got a new chapter for you in the meantime, and more on the way._

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN: A One-Man Band to the Bone**

Gabriel may have had a pretty great day yesterday just chilling at home with movies and junk food, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stand another day of the same. Cabin fever was already getting to him. Plus, he'd promised Castiel that he'd 'scope out the scene', whatever that meant. Basically, he had to make it look like he wasn't just blatantly relying on his brother's generosity for the foreseeable future.

After Castiel had headed off to work, Gabriel decided to cruise the block and look for 'Help Wanted' signs. Not like he was seriously planning to go from a cushy office job to working the counter of a drugstore or something, but at least it was activity, so he could tell his brother he'd been productive today.

Out in the fresh cool morning, Gabriel perked up considerably. It actually was kind of awesome to be free from the fat-cat business milieu that had always rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe this time he'd actually find something cool to do with his life. He hated to admit it, but his little brother had gotten a bit too close to home when he'd so seriously asked about his 'plans for the future'. Gabriel had always lived day-to-day, preferring to focus on having tons of fun––just in case the world ended tomorrow––rather than develop some overarching purpose to his existence. _Family law,_ he mused. That was what Castiel had said Sam did, wasn't it? Gabriel wasn't entirely sure what 'family law' involved. Divorces and foster homes, perhaps? Sounded pretty depressing.

He found himself staring unseeingly into a shop window at a display of weird fruit juices next to a giraffe-themed bathroom set that appeared to be made entirely of hemp, and blinked, glancing up at the store's name: 'Terra Health'. Oh. This must be the hippie-food place that Castiel had said he'd first bumped into Sam. Couldn't hurt to take a look.

Inside, Gabriel found it more amusing than he'd expected to wander the aisles, scoffing at overpriced products with stupefying ingredient lists. He didn't even know what half of this stuff was. He was peering suspiciously at a bottle of kefir, advertised as being the food that helps people in the Caucasus Mountains live well into their hundreds, when he heard his name being tentatively spoken behind him. "Uh... Gabriel?"

Turning, he felt a grin appear unbidden on his face. "Now that's more than just a coincidence! Third time's a charm, eh, Sammy?"

Sam Winchester was indeed towering hesitantly at the near end of the aisle, seeming equally surprised to encounter Gabriel here. "Hey. I thought that might be you." He began to smile in return. "Didn't know this was your kind of place."

"Oh, it's not," Gabriel assured him. "I'm here for research purposes only. And I must say, my findings are simply astounding." He gestured to the bottle of kefir in his hand. "Exhibit A: why are people so gung-ho about having 'Live and Active Cultures' in everything? Drinking this would feel like committing genocide! It would make more sense to market an edible version of the Roman Empire, or Ancient Greece. Why not serve up a plateful of Mesopotamians, Hittites, or Mayans? Heck, I'd take a bite of the Han Dynasty if you offered me a slice! At least those are dead and inactive cultures––the way I prefer my own food, thank you very much."

Sam had started chuckling at the beginning of Gabriel's rant, and by the time it finished he was laughing out loud and had to put down his shopping basket. "Oh wow," he gasped weakly. "Um, yeah. I...can't argue with that, I guess." Shaking his head, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and finally managed to control his laughter. "Seriously though, have you ever tried kefir? It's good stuff."

Gabriel made a face. "I don't eat anything that comes from a place with 'Health' in its name. I prefer to keep a healthy distance from health food."

Sam's eyebrows quirked in amusement. "How oxymoronic. Come on." He took the bottle and dropped it in his basket, starting down the aisle. Seeing Gabriel's raised eyebrow, he explained over his shoulder "You're going to try it. At least a sip. Honestly, it's delicious. Believe it or not, things can be both healthy and tasty."

Trailing after him, Gabriel scoffed loudly. "I doubt it! I didn't get where I am today by eating rabbit food, you know."

"Oh yeah?" Sam barely paused to grab a tiny bottle of something-seed oil from another shelf. "And where exactly are you today?"

"Well––" Gabriel grimaced, hurrying to keep from getting left behind. "Until a couple of days ago, I was pretty much the darling of high society in this city."

Sam frowned, striding around the corner of the aisle without waiting for the shorter man to catch up. "Yeah? What changed?"

"Ah, long story. I'll tell you later. Hey, listen." In the checkout line, Gabriel finally got the long-legged giant to stand still for a moment. "Buddy, you always dash around like that?" he gasped, and shook his head as Sam opened his mouth. "Shh. Rhetorical question. What I wanted to say was this: I consent to try your dreadful live-and-active-cultures yogurt drink monstrosity upon one condition, namely, that you accompany me to the ice-cream parlor around the corner after we get out of this freaky place and prove to me that you can eat a bowl of ice cream like a normal human being. Deal?"

Sam smirked as he passed the cashier a handful of bills. "Ice cream in the morning? I only had breakfast two hours ago. But okay, fine, it's a deal. I've got to get to the office by eleven, though."

Ten minutes later they were settled at the window table in Gabriel's favorite ice-cream shop, and Sam was eyeing a dish of candy-cane-cookie-dough ice cream with undeserved suspicion. "Believe me," Gabriel assured him. "It is the best flavor here. And I've had them all, multiple times, so I know what I'm talking about."

"Who ever thought of combining candy canes and cookie dough?" Sam grumbled, picking up his spoon.

"Christmasy, isn't it?" Gabriel asked blithely. "I'll admit it's the wrong time of year––" it was only late September–– "––but who wants to eat ice cream in the winter, anyway? Winter's better for cakes and cookies and pies and pastries and––" He cut himself off, having unscrewed the lid of the kefir bottle, to take a swig. A big one. Let it never be said that Gabriel Novak didn't jump into new experiences with gusto. Even if they involved phrases such as 'Live and Active Cultures'.

At the same time, Sam bravely put a large spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, and they sat there staring intensely at each other as they rolled the respective tastes around in their mouths. Gabriel's kefir was evidently strawberry-flavored. He'd been too horrified by the cultures to notice this. And, well... it was kind of yummy. He wasn't sure how he'd been expecting 'live and active cultures' to taste, but it just tasted like rich creamy yogurt with a weirdly enticing sour tang to it. Meanwhile, Sam's eyebrows adjusted themselves subtly in what Gabriel hoped was a positive indication.

After several seconds, they both swallowed, almost simultaneously, and continued to hold each other's gaze, each one waiting for the other to offer his opinion first. As the moment stretched to a rather obvious silence, Gabriel began to smirk, and Sam's lips tensed as he tried not to follow suit. "Okay, fine!" Gabriel announced after another moment. "It tastes... live and active."

Sam shook his head and sat back with a grin, sticking his spoon upright in his ice cream. "That's a cop-out. Tell me what you really think of it––be honest!––and I'll tell you what I think of the ice cream."

"Nope, you first."

"It tastes Christmasy."

"That doesn't count. I already said that."

"It tastes... not unacceptable."

"Oh, come ON." Gabriel was unable to restrain himself from reaching over, grabbing the spoon, and stealing a big bite of the ice cream for himself.

Sam tried to look shocked, but his amusement was too obvious. "All right! You win. It's good. I actually like the flavor. But they over-sweetened it. I don't think I can eat the whole thing." He pushed the dish over to Gabriel, who took it greedily.

"Okey-doke. I can't argue with that," he conceded. "To each his own, and all that. And you know what? Your creepy live cultures aren't all that bad either. Not sweet enough for my tastes, but I like that it's strawberry. Strawberry is good. And now I can expect to live to be a hundred, right?"

Sam shook his head, swiping the kefir in his turn and taking a gulp of it. "Nah, you gotta drink it every day if you want the health benefits."

Gabriel shuddered. "Not worth it. You can be old and creaky someday if it's so important to you. Me, I prefer to live fast and die young. Only the good do, you know."

He waggled his eyebrows at Sam, who shook his head with a one-sided smirk. "Sure, whatever."

Pretending horror and disgust as he watched Sam drain the rest of the kefir like it was water, Gabriel remembered telling Castiel that morning that the two of them were 'practically besties now'. Okay, maybe that had been a bit of an exaggeration. But as he regarded the absurdly tall man tucked into the seat across from him, Gabriel found himself thinking: _Well, why not? I can do pretty much anything else––why not try making a real friend?_ It would be an interesting experiment. He'd never bothered initiating a relationship in the past with the intention of making it last more than a couple of days, or however long he needed the person for. Use 'em and lose 'em, that had been his approach, and it had served him well until now. But, well... there were other ways of relating, he supposed. Not that he needed anyone in his life, obviously. Needing people was for saps. Gabriel Novak was completely self-sufficient, thank you very much, and if he was actually considering starting 'Operation Make Friends With Sam', it was clearly just for his own amusement. And to prove that he could do it. Yeah, that sounded about right. It could wait until tomorrow, though. And no, that did NOT mean he was nervous. He didn't get nervous. He just needed time to plan his attack strategy.

With this decision made, Gabriel reached in his pocket, flamboyantly withdrew his watch (ever since he'd come into possession of a real pocket watch with watch fob chain and everything, he took every opportunity to show it off), and said "My my, if it isn't already a quarter to eleven!"

"Shit!" Sam hissed, jumping in his chair and banging his knee on the bottom of the table, which caused him to make an adorable squinched-up face of pain. "I'm going to be late!" He dug a wad of bills out of his pants pocket and dropped them on the table. "Bye, Gabriel!" And before he knew it, Gabriel was alone at the table.

He stared blankly at the dish of melting ice cream in front of him. _Adorable._ He'd definitely just caught himself thinking Sam was adorable. Where in the hell had that come from?


End file.
